Dessert
by RoNask
Summary: Prompt: "Something that involves Clannibal fancy dinner with Hannibal eating Clarice as dessert on the table. (...)"


From time to time Clarice Starling could resemble a cat. He had been watching her for a while now. He had been for the past two days since he came back from one of his times alone, his young wife had been more than pleased to have him back.

Hannibal was aware of the fact that his lonewolf times were growing shorter in time, he just wouldn't get the feeling he used to, so he came home early, finding comfort on Clarice's presence.

This time he had been watching her, the way she moved, the way she talked to the servants, the way she caught him staring and gave him a curious smile. She hadn't questioned him about the staring yet, he wondered how long it would take for curiosity to get the best of her.

The servants had been sent home and they had just finished dinner, the wine being the only remaining evidence of the previous course. The two of them had been talking Dante in a delightful italian.

"You're watching." she finally accused softly, blue eyes meet his maroon ones as she took a sip of her wine. "And you've been quiet, not even Mr. Alighieri seems to be exciting you." she laid her glass on the table and leaned closer to him. "What is it, Hannibal?" he could hear her italian accent fading as she tried to go back to English.

"Observation can be quite a weapon, my dear." he pointed out, his eyes traveling down her cleavage for a moment before moving back to her face. "As example, my observation made it clear to me that you've been frustrated lately." he watched as she blushed. "What was it, Clarice? Was it my time away?" she swallowed. "I'll take that as a yes… When I got home you had bags under your eyes, there was also a collection of erotic poetry laying around your side of the bed. Reading Sappho, dear? And you've been reading Dante and Blake, even though you're quite familiar with Mr. Alighieri for a while now, which believe is my fault… Shall I go on?"

"You're entitled to your free time."

"Are you saying this to me or to yourself?" he dared, she leaned her head slightly to the side, he could see a hint of anger on her irises.

"Why are you doing this, Doctor? Why the taunting now?"

' _Back to Doctor we go'_

He seemed pleased. "Before we get in any further discussions, dear, I believe I should warn you that it all has a biological explanation."

She watched him confused.

"It's your fertile time of the month." he stated simply. "You've been more sexually active the past years than before, it was the first time I left you alone during this part of your cycle, your body is reacting to it."

"Are you trying to reduce me to hormones, Doctor?"

"Never. Just putting your mind at ease, so you don't question your independence any further." He watched her eyes for a long moment. "Now, Clarice, if you'd be so kind as to walk over here, I believe it's time for dessert."

Her cheeks were colored red at the suggestion.

Her breasts felt suddenly heavy, she could feel the burning between her legs and the heat on her cheeks and neck.

So much for trying to keep it cool when he got back.

She didn't register the walking until she found herself before him, he was calmly sat on his chair, his maroon eyes observing her form between him and the table.

Clarice felt sorry for the things they were about to break.

The brunette swallowed quietly as he reached to touch her legs, his hands moving further until he reached her dress skirt, pulling the fabric up as he went. She couldn't help but to smile when he glanced over to her as he realized she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"My dear, am I to understand you've been this exposed since we left for the Opera?" he asked and her smile grew wider.

"It would make it easier." she answered. "You know, we could just go straight to the more pressing matters" her confession felt like sweet honey on his mouth. To know she had been so eager she had forgone wearing her underwear was exhilarating.

He stood up before her, one of his hands moving to catch her chin, he pulled her in for a long kiss.

The feeling of her hands against his chest was a welcome one, but he stopped her as she tried to unbutton his shirt, using her trapped wrist to bring her even closer against him.

He kissed her jaw and then her neck, taking longer on the latter so he could drown on her smell and make her shiver in anticipation. He had her backing up against the table until she was forced to sit on it, her buttocks lying exposed against the warm wood.

Starling wondered for just how long he would observe this particular spot of the table and watch her as if she were naked, as if he was just about to have his way with her, reduce her to sweet pleas.

She sighed as his hand covered her breast from over her dress, his undying fondness for it making him pull her dress away just enough so he could touch her hot skin and caress her nipple. She knew that, at some point, he would have it on his mouth, licking, suckling, biting; he never really had given her breast up since she made her offer.

She was the strongest of his whims. He loved his wine, his music, his books and, of course, he loved her. Hannibal Lecter wasn't one to live an unfulfilled life, having a beautiful wife for him to please and spoil was almost mandatory, she wondered how she hadn't seen it on him before.

Clarice watched his eyes as he knelt before her, she let out a loud sigh as he spread her legs apart and kissed his way to the middle of her thighs.

"Hannibal…" the first whisper came in a soft sound.

He guided her legs to his shoulders before pulling her closer to the edge of the table.

She was fired up, the feeling of his lips against her skin felt like a sin. Her hand moved to the back of his head, playing with his hair so she could regain some control over herself.

And then it came.

He spread her and explored her with his tongue, drawing long moans and breathless whispers. He could feel her legs trying to pull him closer to her center.

Not even the sound of a plate reaching the floor bothered him. She had pulled everything out of her way. The servants would wonder, but she couldn't care less as she lied back on their dinner table, posing as his sweet dessert.

No doubt he'd crawl of her and fuck her to oblivion later, but right now, as his mouth worked on her wet core, she could remember his name very well and very loud.

They said God could save and forgive, while the Devil did that thing you liked with his tongue. "Devil's Bride" never felt so much as an appropriate nickname.

"Hannibal, please!" her voice was filling the air, she wondered for a moment if anyone would hear, she found she didn't care. "Yes!" she hissed as he reached a particularly sensitive spot. He had her shaking as his teeth teased her.

She was wondering if she was dripping, if fluids had touched the table. A mix of her juices and his saliva. She was coming before she could get the answer.

She could feel her heart beating and her walls contracting as he pulled her closer, stealing a quick kiss from her lips, before turning her over the table and making her bend over the wood.

Clarice kept her eyes closed even as her orgasm subsided, she savored the sound of his pants being unfastened, she found herself eager in anticipation.

Oblivion indeed, he would have her repaid for their time apart, even if it meant she would be able to walk straight the next time. It was fine, he could spoil her over it later, take her dinner in bed and bathe her slowly. But first he would have to sate his little Starling.

The long moan she let out as he slipped inside of her was all the incentive he needed.


End file.
